The Truth Hurts
by Raven Queen of the Rogue
Summary: Francis of Nond. "Who's that?" Don't remember him? No one does. Outshined by his friends, his role in history is limited to his untimely death. But here's what really happened-Who he really was-What he really did-And why he failed.
1. Intro

The Truth Hurts  
  
Ok so this is a little intro note cause if you jump right into this you might be more than a little confused. I know no one likes to (or bothers to) read these things but I BEG OF YOU, please make an exception this time. I'll try not to take up your time with useless author's note crap. So  
  
Francis of Nond is not a character I created. Although you'll meet some  
of them, Francis is NOT one of them. Francis was, in fact, part of Prince  
Jon's inner circle of friends when Alanna first came to Corus. He is  
described once as "Raoul's shy blond shadow" in "Alanna The First  
Adventure" and isn't heard off for about 40 pages where and when he meets  
his untimely death, caused by the sweating sickness. I know, I know, you  
probably don't believe me cause most of you are fanatics and have  
absolutely no recollection of this boy. BUT he is there. (check page 36  
of the first edition!)  
  
This fic is written in the form of Francis' journal/thoughts (obviously  
first person) and in (insert girl's name here because I haven't made one  
up yet)'s journal/thoughts., (again obviously first person). I will  
however insert a third person view here and there to explain things. It  
really won't be as confusing as it sounds. Promise. I'll alternate but  
I'll make sure to but a line of ***s to separate it.  
  
Oh and if you want to borrow a plaot line or a character or something.  
Just tell me, K? Cause I'll gladly let you, I just like to read stories  
with part of my creation in them!  
  
The only thing I ask of you is to review. FLAMES ARE WELCOME. I love  
them, they're fun to play with, hehehe. Not to say that I don't also  
welcome the good stuff but.  
  
I guess that's it. I'll post the 1st chapter in about 15 minutes. And in those 15 minutes, hopefully I will have come up with a great girl's name. If you wanna help or suggest one just send a review. I've got an alert so I'll get it immediately. BE HELPFUL! 


	2. A prolog of sorts

Ok- so the power in my apartment went out. I really truly would have posted this sooner but my laptop was kidnapped by my brother jake, and the desktop was obviously not working. And then I uploaded the chapter and I uploaded the first draft instead of this so..  
  
Anyway- thanks to FlameingKnight, bexica, Shards of EvenSong, ShadowKitten2, Shadow Peach, and TerroroftheHighway for ansering my plea for names. And thanks to all of them plus bright, trenz-alyce, and anon for the support And anyone else who reviewed after I got this up!. *cries cheesily  
  
Warning- it's kinda a bad chapter cause I had to get everything started. Bear with me ok? It's actually not even a real chapter it's a prolog of sorts.  
  
As promised. Disclaimer- if I owned Tamora Pierce's character's I sure as hell wouldn't be posting on fanfic now would I?  
  
**Dedicated to Shards of EvenSong (because she gave me the name Riah) and ShadowKitten2, (because she gave the craziest review which included a name starting with EVERY letter of the alphabet)**  
  
( ( ( ( (  
  
The Truth Hurts - Chapter 1  
  
Francis  
It has been almost 4 years since the Great Mother Goddess last appeared to me. 4 very long years, in which, I almost succeeded in convincing myself She was just another figment of a 7 year-old's over- active imagination. But if I had succeeded in believing it was a dream, I certainly hadn't managed to forget.  
  
I had been hunting squirrels with my cousin, Paxton of Nond. At just 11 years, Paxton was already known for his hot temper. Never had I been more aware of it, until he left me, stranded, in the middle of the forest. I mean what kinda bastard leaves a 7 year old alone in a forest? Ok, so he didn't know there were other hunters in the Nond forests that day. But still. And these hunters were hunting entirely different prey. I imagine a richly dresses 7 year-old with a bulging money bag must have seemed very desirable. I could be a deer mounted on a wall.  
  
Being an "old soul", as my mother often called me, I did not have the typical misconceptions of a young boy. I knew I could not defeat 1 armed bandit, much less an army of them. But I did have my pride, so as I unsheathed my dull, child-sized dagger, I started muttering the only spell I knew.  
  
"Bright flame, light flame Around bandits burn higher Light the fire, Bright the flame Burn bandits in Mithros' name"  
  
And then ---- simply put ---- I died. Or rather, I was killed. I spiraled downward into the well of death. A sort of limbo I guess, and the only regret I had, was that the fall was all too quick for my liking. But just before I hit rock bottom, someone grabbed my hand. A horribly beautiful voice called too me and pulled me upward --- too far upward, thru the realm of the dead, and up past the realm of the living, straight into the realms of the gods.  
  
And if life hadn't been weird, death seemed to wish to make up for it. Because it was there, I was told of my future as a watcher.  
  
"A god-like being and a guide for my chosen," the voice; now distinguishable enough to be recognized as female.  
  
Looking back I see what my mistress calls the god's irony. A small boy of 7 winters, ignorant of the world, thinking he was a man who needed no childhood. Preposterous. And even more so now, now that I know. For in order to teach, you must first have had your own lessons. And in order to guide, you must know what you are guiding --- understand it --- have gone thru it, etc. And I have * never * been a learner.  
  
"As a mortal you shall grow" were the Great Mother's parting words, "but be aware, your time of usefulness draws near. Do not fail, Faithful one."  
  
Failure, is of course, a word not present in my vocabulary, and even as I work in the infirmary, I tried to tell my tale ---- tried to do my mistress' bidding. But to no avail. Forget soothing drinks, my parents wanted to lock me up in Duke Baird's "special wing".  
  
So you see, it was easier to believe I was hallucinating. Especially with everyone gossiping about the "addle-brained Nond boy". Easy to believe in child fantasies. Easy to believe I * was * crazy. And easy to believe it was all just a dream. But never easy to forget.  
  
But all that's over now. Everything's changed. I know I'm not dreaming anymore. I'll never have to pretend to forget again. Because today She came back. And today is the day the beginning ends. Tomorrow, on my eleventh birthday, I shall be a true man, and begin anew.  
  
( * ( * ( *  
  
Riah  
  
Tomorrow the real torture starts.  
  
You know. The hell-fire kind.  
  
Tomorrow the real tears are going to fall.  
  
They think I cried when I was kicked out of Goldenlake? They ain't seen nothing yet. Cause tomorrow is when the sorcery lessons start. ECK!!  
  
Isn't it horrible? Crazy how things turn out. I NEVER wanted to be a sorceress. Where I come from women use magic to look more desirable. To enchance * ahem * certain areas. To catch a rich husbad. Who needs to fight?  
  
Just think, if I hadn't been disowned, I'd be being shipped off to a convent right now. Raoul, (looking stiff as a board and nervous) and my father, (looking as proud as ever) would be escorting me and my hundreds of lavish dresses to a finishing school as we speak. I would be looking forward to the next days dancing lesson where we'd be learning our first waltz. The mistress of the school would pronounce be a "naturally graceful and gifted dancer," and I would blush and thank her, never letting on that I had been practicing for 4 weeks in private. But I get ahead of myself. For it will never be.  
  
For the past 2 months I have been staying at this monastery. A beautiful building, to be sure, but dark and dreary all the same. The mithran priests took me in, off the streets. Said they saw the gift flare in me. WELL OF COURSE THEY DID THE DOLTS!! I WAS ROBBING THEM BLIND WITH IT!! But I guess I wasn't born to be a thief. I'm not very good at it.  
  
I resented them for taking me, trying to instill their beliefs in my head. But now as I finger the pretty sapphire ring I swiped when they took me, I realize it was probably for the best. For if I wasn't here now being warm, with a full belly, and dreaming of being the lady I was born to be, I'd be out there, on the streets, cold and still dreaming about the lady I was born to be. Besides, "a lady does not steal anything but a man's heart" as my mother once told me. Stupid women.  
  
Maybe this place isn't so bad. If they'd stop nagging me about my gift and my "attitude". What attitude? They're the hypocrites! They tell me I should have become a Player. And if I could get away now, I'd probably listen to that advice. But I'll stay, only because Raoul comes to the palace tomorrow. He's beginning his training as a page. And I want to speak to him again. Not that I'm homesick or anything. Cause I don't regret ANYTHING I did to get me here. But he was such a sweet little boy when I last saw him, almost 4 years ago, I think. He's the only one I miss. The rest can rot with the Dark God and let Mithros strike them down.  
  
( ( ( ( (  
  
What'd ya think? They're completely different I know. Francis is sorta boring and too responsible while Riah is a wee bit dramatic. If you like or hate tell me. Remember my rule! I LOVE FLAMES TOO!! And I promise the next chappie will be a lot more interesting.  
  
And I'm looking for a couple of betas if anyone's interested!  
  
~Raven 


End file.
